fbpx

Bible Marathon retraces path of 12 Tribes

Drumming Charedi musicians and uniformed soldiers are not the typical fans to pack an Israeli sporting event.
[additional-authors]
April 16, 2015

Drumming Charedi musicians and uniformed soldiers are not the typical fans to pack an Israeli sporting event. Nor are clean-cut men with handguns tucked into in the back of jeans. But the Bible Marathon held April 9 was not an ordinary race. It was the first major Israeli athletic competition hosted by a settlement deep inside the West Bank. The route traced the heartland, the path where figures from the time of the 12 Jewish tribes are thought to have once trekked.

“We discovered that 3,000 years ago, in one of the biblical stories, the Ark of the Covenant was taken place to place,” said Miri Ovadia, 27, a spokeswoman for the Benjamin Regional Council, an organization that represent settlements nestled in hilltops to the north and east of Jerusalem. The council designed the marathon, which included 15-kilometer (9.3 miles) and 5-kilometer (3.1 miles) routes to trail the ancient run. “He ran exactly 42 kilometers (26 miles),” she said, referring to the biblical “man of Benjamin,” who ran centuries before the legendary messenger of Greek legend.

The races ended in Shiloh, amid the settlement town’s archaeological site. The pages of the Torah inspired the aesthetics for the race. Vendors, dressed in the clothing of ancient Jews, sold Shiloh brand olive oil. Instead of receiving a trophy, marathon winners were given a clay vase designed in the style of the Second Temple. It was this exploration of Jewish heritage that attracted competitors who do not live in the settlements. “They came from all over Israel, and they were simply curious about this part of the land,” Ovadia said.

“The down[hill] was good, but the up was horrible,” said Tel Aviv resident Barak, 36, who ran the 15-kilometer race with his wife, Ayelet, 31 (they asked that their last name not be published). The terrain in the territories is rougher than the flat roadways in the internationally acclaimed Tel Aviv marathon held months earlier. Shiloh’s race ended nearly five miles above sea level.

“It’s one of the most beautiful parts of Israel, and it’s so exciting to run in an area where we know that our fathers for hundreds of years ran here. So we continue the tradition,” Ayelet said.

Although the couple live in Israel’s liberal and left-leaning hub, voted in the last election for the Zionist Camp and hope to see a future independent Palestinian state, the Bible Marathon was not their first excursion over the pre-June 1967 line. Ayelet studied engineering in Ariel, regarded as the settlement capital. Her husband served 10 years in the West Bank as an army reservist.

“Most of the people from this area give from themselves to the country, more than people from Tel Aviv,” Ayelet said. She hoped the marathon would show a positive side to settlers, and undo the reputation of danger the territories hold for many Israelis. “Most of the people in the world think that we are occupiers,” her husband lamented.

Although the marathon kicked off without incident, a day earlier, on April 8, a Palestinian stabbed two soldiers, who then shot and killed him; the terror attack happened at a site within walking distance of the finish line.

“There were extra police units in coordination with the [Israel Defense Forces],” police spokesperson Chief Inspector Micky Rosenfeld said. Indeed hundreds of police lined the marathon route — alongside aid stations providing water.

If there was fear among the runners, it did not show. The mood was exuberant. The morning was cool and misty, ideal weather for the 2,000-plus participants, the oldest of whom was 71. Groups of schoolchildren hooted and sang songs. The scent of barbecuing meat wafted through the air. Queen’s “We Are the Champions” bellowed over loudspeakers.

“These are my soldiers,” a cheerful officer in the combat Nachshon unit of the Kfir brigade said as he watched a group of around 20 new draftees doing stretches. He wore gym shorts and wore a semi-automatic weapon slung over his shoulder. “They are rookies. They entered the army two months ago,” he explained as the group huddled, posing for photographs arm in arm.

Meanwhile, a short hike south of Shiloh, the Israeli army redirected Arab drivers in the neighboring Palestinian town of Turmus Ayya. The Bible Marathon route traced two major roads in the West Bank and shut down all vehicle traffic for half of the day. For Palestinians, the closure barred them from using the only thoroughfare between the north and south of the territory.

“They always close the village for no reason, actually,” said Abed Diab, 38, from Turmus Ayya, who lives most of each year in Delaware, where he owns a linen and carpet store. Diab said army-ordered road closures are a common occurrence in the West Bank. The marathon was no exception. He said Shiloh expropriated 20 dunums of his family’s land, although founders from the Gush Emunim movement dispute this. They said, and Israel’s high court has ruled, Shiloh was built on land owned by Israel. Palestinians continue to refute this ruling, rejecting all settlements as a violation of international law.

Diab’s hometown of Turmus Ayya gained notoriety within Arab society during the winter, when a Palestinian minister died after an altercation with Israeli border police. Ziad Abu Ein was planting olive trees to mark International Human Rights Day when he suffered a fatal heart attack. Palestinian leaders blamed Israel for his death, citing a physical confrontation with Israeli soldiers moments before. “He was my friend and we worked together in many areas,” said Walid Assaf, 54, the late Abu Ein’s successor as the chief settlement monitor for the Palestinian Authority. Assaf was among dozens of people who protested the Bible Marathon along with dozens of others by the entrance of Turmus Ayya.

Assaf said no notice was given to residents that the army would block the highway. He found out the day before from newspapers. “Even if they announced it one month ago, it’s not legal to close the road,” he said. “Hundreds of villagers that live in the north could not come to work in Ramallah.”

Did you enjoy this article?
You'll love our roundtable.

Editor's Picks

Latest Articles

Print Issue: Got College? | Mar 29, 2024

With the alarming rise in antisemitism across many college campuses, choosing where to apply has become more complicated for Jewish high school seniors. Some are even looking at Israel.

More news and opinions than at a
Shabbat dinner, right in your inbox.

More news and opinions than at a Shabbat dinner, right in your inbox.

More news and opinions than at a Shabbat dinner, right in your inbox.